


Time

by zoi_no_miko



Category: 24
Genre: Adultery, Anal, Angst, Bondage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-19
Updated: 2009-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-04 15:19:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/zoi_no_miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything about being with Jack was a sin. But that's what made Tony need it so badly. (Through seasons 1-7)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. For a Moment (Envy)

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own, lay claim to or make money from 24 or its characters. This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only.

Tony isn't all that surprised when he gets the text message from Jack, shortly before he's due to leave work. A time, a place, a room number. They'd done this before, though not after Jack went back to Teri. Even when Jack had been with Nina (quietly, discreetly, but he'd known about them, how could he not know?) there had been a few instances. The two of them, arriving somewhere that no one would look for them. Arriving separately, leaving separately, and saying nothing about it afterward.

He goes. Against all sensible reason, the rational part of his mind is telling himself. It's only been a month since Jack left CTU, since Jack's wife was murdered. Jack is mourning, Jack is unstable... Jack isn't even talking to his daughter, the one he was willing to give his life for. She'd left him, pushed him away, and while Tony hadn't thought before now that it was possible to hate a little girl he'd hardly met, he hates Kim for what she's done to Jack, almost as much as he hates Nina. So he goes, because the tiniest corner of his mind, the part that likes to tell him that this is something more than it is, tells him that Jack doesn't have anyone else right now, anyone else left.

When he reaches the hotel, he goes in without speaking to anyone, up the stairs to the second floor, and knocks on the door for the room that had been in the text message. Jack answers, unshaven and rumpled, eyes bloodshot. Jack has been drinking, is still drinking, but that's usually how it starts, and Tony doesn't begrudge him that, not this time. Jack Bauer never gave up control. But sometimes, sometimes in certain, secret moments, he could be persuaded to set it aside.

He doesn't mention Nina, though he wants to. Doesn't bring up how she played them both, betrayed them both, though it still hurts him, burns like a fresh gunshot wound when he thinks about it. He'd loved her, more than he'll ever admit, and much more than he should have, even though he'd never completely trusted her. He knows now, knows too late why his intuition, his instinct had made him feel that way. But at the time, when she was his superior, when she was fucking his Jack (so silly, to think of Jack Bauer as belonging to anyone, but he can't help it) his mind had told him that it was only envy and resentment he felt, hatred that Jack could take Nina to Santa Barbara when there could never be anything like that for him. He doesn't mention Nina, though he wants to - wants to apologize to Jack for everything he did and didn't do that could have ended things differently, wants to reveal that Jack isn't the only one that was hurt that night. He doesn't say anything, because this is about Jack, like it almost always is, not Tony.

He locks the door behind him and reaches for Jack without saying anything, hand closing around the mostly empty mickey bottle of Jack Daniels and taking it from him, setting it on top of the rickety motel entertainment unit. Then he gives Jack something better to do with his mouth, pressing him up against the wall and tearing hungry, desperate kisses from him, their lips meeting in the first steps of life's oldest dance, kisses hard and rough and hot and wet, and Jack tastes like whisky and the cigarettes that Tony thought he'd given up long ago, whisky and cigarettes and desperate desire. His skin is rough from being unshaven, but Tony doesn't care, doesn't care about anything but the attempt to devour him with kisses, teeth scraping harder than Jack's stubble at his lips and tongue.

They don't need words, there's never been words between them when this happens, just Jack's mouth and his, hands tearing at each other's clothes to get to what they want. All Tony ever needs to get hard are Jack's kisses, wordlessly battling him for dominance, Jack's hands yanking at his clothes with such force that Tony has learned the hard way never to wear a tie around him, Jack's fingers curling around his aching cock.

They are in bed within minutes, both of them panting, sweaty, desperate, achingly hard. Jack goes on his hands and knees before him, like he almost always does, and Tony finds the small tube of lubricant in the pocket of his discarded pants (because Jack never brings any). He rocks two fingers, wet and slippery, into Jack's ass, and the way Jack shudders and curses and presses back against him drives him more wild than he'll ever admit, makes his cock twitch in anticipation, makes him ache to complete this. But he continues, because for these few moments he is in control, not Jack, watching Jack shudder, the patterns of old gunshot wounds and other, unknown scars on his back standing out almost prettily against his pale skin. Listening to Jack gasp and groan and curse and demand, because it's the only way Tony can do this and not feel completely used.

"Please don't make me beg today," Jack gasps, finally, and that's close enough to begging that it's all Tony can handle. He pulls his fingers away, fumbling to add more lube to his aching erection, and then moves to kneel behind him and bury that cock in Jack in a few hard thrusts. He hates this with women, but he can't get enough of Jack, the way his muscles shudder and squeeze his cock as he takes him, the way he cries out with every breath, his ass rocking back against him, pushing Tony's cock hard and deep inside him. The way he goes wild when Tony reaches around to curl his fingers around the straining shaft of his erection and stroke him (which he has to do, or else he comes much faster than Jack) bucking back against him as if he's the one fucking Tony. He has to push Jack's sweat-streaked shoulders down into the mattress, to keep him in place with one hand and his weight, as if he's taking this by force, though he knows Jack could throw him off in a second.

He tries not to think, not to wonder if they'll ever do this again, because nothing is ever certain with Jack. But he's here now, and for these few moments Jack isn't anyone's but his, and their voices mingle in breathless cries of pleasure, his hips colliding almost painfully with Jack's firm ass with the force of his thrusts. It's been so long since they've done this, and that desperation makes it even hotter, the pleasure and sensation and emotion (that he'll never admit to) building fast and uncontrollable. Jack's reactions, the way he moves and shudders and cries out underneath him, the heat and hardness of his cock in Tony's hand are almost more fulfilling than his own satisfaction, and when Jack comes, shuddering around him and leaving his pleasure in hot sticky ropes in Tony's hand, that's all he can handle. His hand moves from Jack's shoulders to clench almost painfully tight on his hip, holding him in place as he bucks hard into him one last time, crying out his name despite himself, climaxing hot and deep inside him.

For a long moment he doesn't pull away, lost to the rush of pleasure, the oblivion of orgasm, not thinking about dead wives or ex girlfriends or anything else besides Jack. Then he forces himself to move before Jack does, pulling away and dropping wearily to the mattress beside him, wiping his hand on the edge of the cheap motel blanket. In a moment, Jack will disappear off to the bathroom, like he always does, clean himself up and leave without a word. It hurt like hell, the first time he did it, but Tony's used to it by now, used to Jack needing to be in control of this insanity that happens between them.

This time though, Jack doesn't move, and it takes Tony a few minutes to realize that his shoulders are shaking silently. Gently, timidly, he reaches for Jack, certain that the man will jerk from his touch at any moment, but this time Jack lets him, and curls into Tony's arms, burying his face in his shoulder, sobbing silently as Tony's hands stroke his hair, his shaking back.

Tony knows it won't last. But for this moment, he closes his eyes and lets his face rest against Jack's honey coloured hair, letting himself believe that there is more to this affair than just fucking.

~~~~~


	2. Late (Pride)

Jack answers the motel room door, and Tony can't tell if he's been drinking or not, but it doesn't matter this time. He locks the door behind him, but doesn't move closer. He wants Jack, more than ever before, even after everything that's happened in the past couple of weeks, even after Jack sprained his ankle (Jack had been right, in the end, he could never shoot Jack). Maybe it was the bomb at CTU, maybe it was the plane, maybe it was hearing the President of the United States give Nina permission to kill him in cold blood with no repercussions, but he knows how close he came, so many times that day, to loosing Jack, probably more than he's even aware of. But this has always been a bad idea, a very bad thing for him, and he needs to stop it.

"Jack...." It feels strange, unnatural to speak, to step away from the pattern, to break what feels like an unwritten rule, but still he presses forward. "I can't do this anymore."

Jack doesn't answer, but leans back against the wall, arms folded across his chest. Looks at him with his head tilted and one eyebrow raised ever so slightly. He's beautiful, Tony thinks, like he's always thought, and it amazes him as it always does that a man who has been through so much can retain such a look of almost childlike innocence and inherent goodness. Perhaps it was his clear blue eyes, or the way his lips curved down from the generous cupids bow. It makes it so much harder for Tony to say what he needs to.

"Jack, I'm... seeing someone."

"I know." Simple words, said calmly, but Tony can see that mouth tighten and shift, ever so slightly, so much that no one would notice unless they were adept at reading Jack.

He watches him calmly. "If you knew, then why did you message me?"

Jack's voice is lower when he speaks again, and betrays no more emotion, but Tony can see his eyebrows knit together, ever so slightly. "When have women ever meant anything, Tony?"

He glances away, trying to school his expression, to keep as calm as he can. "This one's special to me. She's different. This one means something." It's not a lie, not entirely. No one can rival Jack, rival how Jack makes him feel despite how much he tries not to. But he's too proud to say it, say how much it hurts to leave him after he sees him like this, how much he needs him. So instead he's started seeing Michelle, who is sweet, and lets him take her out to dinner, lets him walk hand in hand with her down the boardwalk, lets him kiss her in the middle of a crowd. Michelle is safe. Michelle doesn't leave him in the morning.

"Really."

He holds firm. "Yes."

"Well." Jack gives a little nod, entirely amicable, straightening a little, watching the door. "Perhaps I shouldn't have messaged you then."

"Perhaps you shouldn't have," he echoes, not meeting his eyes.

"I guess that settles it, then." Jack reaches for the doorknob, then stops. "Just one question for you, Almeida...."

Tony looks at him despite himself, into the piercing gaze of those blue eyes, and he knows that Jack has had no intention of leaving, that Jack has been working him, and he swallows. "Yeah?"

"Tell me why you answered my message and came here?"

He closes his eyes against a rush of desire, feels his mouth tighten. He had answered, and he had come, even come prepared, though he'd convinced himself that he would not allow this to continue. He feels Jack's hands rest lightly on his hips, then one dances down, fingers circling the tube in his pocket.

"I'm not sure you're being entirely truthful with me, Tony," He hears Jack's voice, feels his breath tickle warm against his ear, the huskiness of his words sending a shudder of desire down his spine to his cock.

"Leave me be, Jack," he tries one more time, his voice much weaker than intended, but somehow his body is already reacting without his permission, pulling Jack's hips against his, leaning in to catch his mouth hungrily. Dancing the steps so familiar that he doesn't even have to think by this time, just feel. Jack's hands on his body, his hands tearing at Jack's clothes as Jack's were at his, and Jack's mouth (god that beautiful mouth), demanding, hot and yearning as he claims Tony's lips, and there's no whiskey this time, no cigarettes, just the taste of Jack.

He bucks up into Jack's fingers as they curl around his cock, gasping, pushing the blond man's pants and boxers off. "Jack... go down on me."

The corners of that mouth turn upwards in almost a smirk, and for the amount of times he's imagined those lips wrapped around his cock, he can't keep from asking again. Demanding. "Suck me off."

Jack looks almost amused, then goes to his knees and takes the head of his aching cock in his mouth, fingers wrapped around the base to hold him in place.

Tony realizes right away that this has been a very bad idea, as soon as he feels the shock that bursts up his spine as those lips close around his erection, feels them sliding down his shaft. He's never asked for this before, they've never talked about what they have and haven't done in the past beyond the first night Jack drug him into this with a bottle of whiskey and a murmured, "I know you've been with men before, Tony." But he can't imagine that Jack hasn't done this before, because he's so damn good at it (Can Jack Bauer be bad at anything?), stroking and sucking and working his tongue against all the right places. He buries his hands in that honey blond hair, hips rocking up into Jack's mouth. The splay of thick blond eyelashes on Jack's cheek from Jack's closed eyes flutter, and it almost makes him come right there and then, watching Jack with his cock in his mouth.

It's been a very bad idea, and he starts telling Jack to stop - asking, demanding, finally begging, and isn't this supposed to be the other way around? But Jack is in control for now, and keeps coaxing him, pleasuring him, letting the sensation build, taking Tony deep into his throat. And just when he feels like he can't possibly hold off any longer, Jack finally lets up, pulling back and squeezing the base of his cock gently to help him keep control, tugging his balls back down gently.

He's not sure whether he wants to laugh or cry or scream but does none of those, taking a few deep breaths and slowly getting control of himself again. "Damn you."

"Be careful what you ask for, Tony." Amused, almost smug, completely in control of everything, and he's so damn beautiful that Tony can hardly stand it.

"Get on the bed on your back." He says, and Jack, surprisingly, complies, lets Tony have the time to go down on him, which Tony really needs right now or else he'll explode like a nervous teenager the second he takes him. He kisses over his chest hungrily, careful of the still healing scars that he doesn't ask about, kisses his stomach, covers his erection in slow laps of his tongue. This is satisfying on another level, finally being able to taste him, to trace the ridges and veins in his cock with his tongue, to lap up the salty thick precum, pressing his tongue against its point of issue, which turns out to be just as effective at making Jack squirm and gasp as fingering him is. For a short time, Tony lets himself indulge just in this, in letting Jack's erection fill his mouth, in taking him deep into his throat, in the heady satisfaction of feeling Jack shudder, Jack's hands buried in his hair.

He pulls back finally, but just to find the lube, and pushes Jack's legs up on either side of his shoulders so that he can prep him, slick fingers stroking his ass as he sucks at the head of his cock, pressing two fingers inside him, fucking him slowly with them.

Jack is reduced to begging already, rocking up into his mouth, back against his hand, voice breathless, helpless. "God, Tony, damn you - give it to me! Fuck, please - !"

"I'll fuck you when and how I choose," He murmurs huskily, and crooks his fingers to brush ever so slightly against Jack's prostate, making the blond shudder and buck underneath him, making him cry out helplessly. But now isn't such a bad time to choose, so he pulls back, pulling Jack's legs over his shoulders, because if they've deviated this much already he's going to take this one step further, so he can see Jack's face when he takes him.

He's beautiful, Tony thinks again, especially now, now when Jack is entirely his, blue eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure, full lips parted to draw shivering breath, to cry out as he rocks into him. Jack tries to buck up against him, meet his thrusts as he rocks hard into that firm ass, but he doesn't have as much control in this position. Still, he doesn't fight it, not even when Tony leans down to kiss him, bending him almost double to claim those full lips with his own. He reaches up instead, holding him in place and tearing trembling kisses from his mouth as they rock together, fingers digging into his sweat-streaked back.

Even though this isn't as hard, as deep as he'd normally fuck Jack, it's somehow more intense, swallowing Jack's cries with his kisses, rocking with him slowly, letting the sensation build. Jack seems to revel in it, fingers slipping up into his hair to tangle almost painfully tight, holding him to his mouth until they are both too breathless, too far gone for kisses. Tony lets his forehead rest against Jack's, sharing his breath as he feels his love tighten and shudder around him, feels his pleasure land hot and slick on his stomach as he climaxes. He lets it pull him over the edge too, finally, finally knowing completion, pleasure shuddering through his veins, emotion so thick that he can hardly breathe.

He lets Jack's legs ease down around his waist, gasping for breath, his whole body trembling as everything that's happened since he's arrived hits him, and he closes his eyes, letting his head rest against Jack's shoulder, trying to find the strength to pull himself together. He knows he doesn't have long, knows that Jack will pull away any moment, but he indulges as long as he can, breathing in the scent of his skin, his cologne. Then he forces himself to push himself up, pulling away from him with a soft sigh.

Unexpectedly, Tony feels Jack's hands catch his shoulders, tugging him back down beside him, into his arms, nestling his face into Tony's hair silently. Even though he's not quite sure what's happening and where this is going, Tony can't bring himself to resist, and wraps his arms tightly around him, pressing his lips to his neck just below his ear, stroking a hand slowly up and down his back. Jack moves back slowly, just a little, not pulling away but just drawing back enough to look at him, enough for blue eyes to search his own. Jack's lips part, just a little, looking very much as if he wants to speak but can't find the words.

"Shhh," Tony breathes softly, even though Jack hasn't said anything yet, and leans in to kiss him, warm and sweet and gentle, like he'd kiss Michelle. But this isn't Michelle, this is Jack, and his heart is singing in a way that it never does with anyone else. One of Jack's hands cups his face, gentle, warm, drinking in his kisses, mouth trembling ever so slightly under his own. These kisses have nothing to do with lust, for either of them, and Tony knows he has to say something, something about the trembling, nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He swallows his pride, letting his forehead rest against Jack's, like they'd been during sex, feeling Jack's breath, warm and moist, tease his skin. "I need you, Jack," he murmurs, because that's all he can managed to make himself say, and at the same time it says everything.

Jack is silent for a long moment, eyes closed, fingers stroking through Tony's hair. "I don't have a great track record with my relationships," He says slowly, softly. "So this isn't one. I want you to stay with Michelle, I want you to have someone in your life for when I'm not around."

He doesn't ask if Jack means assignments or something more final than that, because it's probably both. After the everything that had almost happened the day CTU was bombed, they're all a little more aware of their own mortality. He nods slowly, accepting. "But... this will keep happening?"

Jack is silent for a long moment, and Tony wonders if even now, this admission is too much for him. "As long as you keep showing up," he says finally, softly.

He smiles, warm, honest. "I will." He wants to say more, but his cell phone rings, and he remembers suddenly that he'd never meant to stay, and certainly not for this long. "Goddammit... I'm sorry - "

"Answer it," Jack says softly, and he does, pulling away and finding the phone in his coat pocket.

"Almeida here." It's Michelle, like he already knows it is. He's supposed to be meeting her now. "Sorry, I got caught up with something. I'm just heading out in about five minutes, I should be there soon. Yeah, I won't be long. I love you too." He clicks off the phone and turns to look at Jack hesitantly.

"There's a flower shop on the corner," He says with a little smile, watching him calmly.

"I'm sorry...."

He chuckles softly, and Tony thinks it's beautiful seeing him so at ease, though he's not sure why Jack is so amused about him going off to meet Michelle. "Go, go. Don't keep her waiting. I recommend roses."

He stares at Jack for a long moment, then finally just nods, cleaning up and dressing quickly, trying not to think about how nice the other man looks, lounging comfortably on the bed, stomach still stained with the signs of their passion. Once he's dressed, he does lean over to indulge, finding Jack's lips with this for a long, languid kiss.

"Thanks," he murmurs softly. He wants to say so much more, but realizes they've already said enough for today, so he turns away. He's about to open the door when he hears Jack's voice.

"Tony?"

He turns. "Yeah?"

"I'll call."

He grins. "Sure. See you, Jack."

~~~~~

Michelle loves the roses, and doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary. But much later, when they're curled together in Tony's bed where Jack has never been, she nestles her face against his chest and breathes deeply. "Mmm... you're wearing the same cologne as Jack Bauer wears, aren't you?"

It takes him a moment to realize what she's talking about, and then he laughs softly, before he can help it. "Just something I tried on at the store when they were wrapping your flowers."

"I like it," she murmurs sleepily. "You should wear it more often."

Tony smiles to himself. "Yeah... I think I will."


	3. 30 Minutes (Greed)

I think I always felt a little more protective of Michelle than I should have. I loved her, certainly more than any woman I'd ever met, but that wasn't what instilled the reckless need to do right by her, keep her safe, I realized that now. It was guilt.

Guilt that I married her, when I loved someone else more. Guilt that I chose her because she was safe, not because she was the one that truly and completely owned my heart. Guilt that I loved her, but used her anyway.

Guilt was the reason I was sitting here, in a holding cell at District, waiting for them to take me to be processed at Federal. Charge of treason... what a laugh. I did what I had to do, and made it right afterward, just like CTU always does. But when does a court of law ever understand that? In the end, though... even if it hadn't been put right, I was still willing to make the sacrifice. Thousands of innocent lives for Michelle's. So I deserved to be here, deserved... what had Hammond said? Twenty years at best, if not the death penalty? That's what guilt does to you, it eats you up inside, tears you apart day after silent day, worse than any virus, until you crack under the pressure and throw away all sense of reason.

There was one thing that confused me, though. I'd been moved here from CTU holding at one in the afternoon, where they said they were taking me straight to be processed. Instead I'd ended up here, in front of yet another one way mirror. Yet another table and bright overhead light. There'd been a few people in and out, asking more questions about Saunders, more about what I knew and what I'd done, but it all blurred together by this time, and I wasn't sure what they still wanted from me. Maybe they just wanted to get me away from Michelle. I took off my jacket and pillowed my head on it on the table, letting myself doze. It had been a very long day....

"Tony."

I jerked awake, blinking sleepily at the person who'd come through the door, the last person I expected to be allowed to see me here. "... Jack?"

Jack gave me a smile, the kind he always gave people when he wanted them to believe everything would be all right. I knew it too well to believe it. "Hey. You doing okay?"

I gave a little shrug. "As well as could be expected. How did you get them to let you in here? Hammond's locked me down from anyone who might know me..."

He perched on the side of the table, watching me. "I just finished up with the courier an hour and a half ago... told them I needed to pump you for some more information."

I nodded slowly. "I've said all I know, Jack...."

"I know. That was just the excuse."

I laughed softly, mirthless. "How's Chase? No one will talk to me here."

I saw a shadow cross Jack's face, and I realized then how tired he was, physically and emotionally, and what everything that he'd had to do during the day had cost him. He'd had to put a gun to Chase's head and pull the trigger down in Mexico, I'd heard. Had to leave him to torture. Had to cut off his hand with an axe to save LA from another release of the virus. Chase, his partner. Chase, who he loved like a son, I knew, though he'd never admit it, and I don't think anyone but me would ever be able to read it from him. But Jack let down his guard around me, sometimes, when we were alone. Just enough for me to see him, see the Jack under all the survival layers of abrasiveness, weathered tough by trials and hardship. And now, I could tell, he was very weary, very hurt, and very scared.

"Chase will be okay," Jack said slowly. "It was clean, they were able to reattach very successfully. They're estimating he'll regain almost full use of it." As he spoke, he reached inside the breast pocket of his jacket, pulling out a folded manila envelope, looking down at it in his hands, then offering it to me.

I stared at it, making no effort to take it. "What is that?"

"Everything you need to disappear. Papers, an access card out of here, and keys and plate number for a black explorer that's parked half a block away in a residential driveway. There's a change of clothes and a razor inside, I recommend shaving your head. There's a small charter plane leaving from Norton at midnight that will take you across the border into Mexico, and a connection there to North Africa."

I took all this in silently. "... you want me to run?"

Blue eyes glanced away from mine guiltily. "I don't want to see you rot behind bars."

"They'll know it was you that let me out."

"I am aware of that." He set the envelope down on the table, sliding it toward me. "I can disappear just as easily."

"Disappear, Jack? What about Kim?"

"She has Chase." He stood, turning and resting his hands on the table top, looking down at me evenly. "Tony. You were right, about what you did. About what I did. It's no different. So if this is your sentence, it should be mine too."

"No, it's different." I wet my lips, staring down at the table. "Look... I'm sorry for what I said. About Teri. It was uncalled for."

He shook his head. "We both said things we didn't mean, it's fine. I just don't want to see you go down for being human."

It doesn't matter. I should have known better, I really should have. I'd tried to keep them both of them, both Jack and Michelle, and lost everything. If I'd trusted Michelle, trusted her enough to tell her about Mexico and the sting operation, maybe I wouldn't be in here. But that would have betrayed Jack, and that was something I could never bring myself to consciously do, under any circumstances, not until Michelle's life was threatened. So I'd wronged her, and fought to make it right when she was kidnapped, jeopardized everything, even Jack, to appease my own guilty conscience.

If I'd trusted him, maybe I wouldn't be here either. No, for certain I wouldn't be. I hated myself for that now. I knew Jack, and I knew he was willing to make any sacrifice to keep the country safe, keep the innocents safe. Even if it was his daughter, though he'd never consciously admit it. Even if it was me, probably. I knew that Michelle would be expendable in his eyes. But truthfully... Jack had always done right by me, by me and Michelle, even when Division tried to keep us from working together due to that bullshit conflict of interest protocol. He'd even stood by my side as I married her. Yet after all that, I'd still let my fear overrule everything else. I'd lied to him.

He would be better off without me. They both would.

"I'm not going to run."

Jack closed his eyes for a moment, and I could see his mouth shift, could see him trying very hard not to react, and then he gave a sharp nod, looking at me again. "All right. I'll respect that. But I'm getting you out of here, no matter what it takes. I promise you that."

"Just leave it, Jack. I appreciate it, I really do. But there's nothing you can do. I need to pay for what I've done."

"No. No..." He shook his head, blue eyes full of pain. "Don't give up on me. I'm doing everything I can, Tony, please believe me. I don't want this, I never wanted this." His voice cracked, and I closed my eyes in a wash of sorrow. Funny how after all this time, Jack was still the one that could tear me down. I could be strong for Michelle, I could withstand her pain, but not Jack's.

"Yeah. I know," I said softly. "I'm sorry I let you down."

"Don't. Ever. Think that." Blue eyes looked sharply to mine, and in two steps Jack had reached me, leaning over, catching my face and kissing me.

It was hard, so very hard to push him away, but there were consequences to think about. I caught the front of his shirt in my hands to hold him in place, yanking back from the kiss. "Jack! The cameras - "

"Do you think I didn't take care of that? I came here to break you out." He followed my glance toward the mirror, and gave his head another little shake. "My people are guarding the doors. There's no one watching. We won't be disturbed for at least half an hour, long enough to get a good head start, if you change your mind."

I shook my head, reaching for him wordlessly, voice a little harsher than I expected it to be. "I'm not going to run, Jack. If I run I'll never see her again. And chances are, I'll never see you again either." He let me pull him down onto my lap wordlessly, thighs wrapping around my waist, let me tangle my fingers in his hair to pull his face to mine, crush his lips to mine with desperate kisses. "I'm so sorry, Jack...."

"Tony - " he gasped my name against my mouth, voice raw, almost helpless, but I answered the only way I knew how, claiming his mouth, pulling his hips to mine and arching up against him, one hand moving down to cup his ass, keeping him from pulling away. He didn't try though, returning my kisses with a little helpless shudder, hips grinding against me slowly, demanding. His fingers were already tugging the buttons on my shirt undone, pushing it off my shoulders, and his actions told me so much more than words how much he needed me, needed the release. Even now, even with all the guilt and all the consequences my actions had brought on me, I still wanted him, still needed him, badly enough to do it all over again.

"We have half an hour?" I asked him, low and breathless, and he gave the smallest nod in reply. I slipped my hand from his hair to cup his face, looking up into tortured blue eyes. "Let me suck you off."

His lips parted, ever so slightly, and I could see the battle rage, between control and raw need. "Tony...."

"You know you need it, Jack."

He let out the softest sigh, eyes closing for a moment against the reality of this, his reply very low, throaty with emotion. "I need you."

It was broke me to see him like this, his careful defenses torn down, too exhausted to keep them up any longer. Like he'd been after Teri's death, and after he got back from his mission with the Salazars, arms bruised from the heroin. "I'm so sorry, Jack," I said, and knew from the sound of my voice, the ache in my heart, that my walls were as decimated as his.

"Please run," he whispered, but all I could do was pull his mouth to mine again, trembling against him as I tried to express my sorrow and regret, my guilt, my failings. My silent plea for forgiveness, for lying to him, betraying him, for letting him down. I wouldn't run. I could never run, and he knew that, even before he came here, I was sure. But he'd never forgive himself if he didn't try, and for that I loved him all the more.

Wordlessly, I pulled him closer, tugging the top button of his shirt undone and leaning in to kiss his neck hungrily, nipping at the skin, at the muscle that joined neck to shoulder, tasting stress and sweat and all the burdens of the field, and felt him shudder against me. My hands tugged harder at the remaining buttons, impatiently, starting to kiss over the skin that was revealed. I wanted - needed - to remember this, to touch and kiss and own every part of him, imprint his scent and taste and the feel of him on my memory. If we'd had time, if we'd had a stolen night in a little motel room, I would have covered every inch of him with my kisses, but all we had was now, thirty minutes to get us through the years and years to come, years of need, of being apart. So I kissed him, hard and desperate, again and again, like it could somehow take all of this away, take away the pain.

"Get up and lean back against the table," I hissed against his neck, but I felt him shake his head, and he reached back, moving my hand away from his ass to pull something out of his back pocket, two packaged condoms that he pressed into my hand wordlessly. Not for protection, we were clean - he made doubly sure of that after returning from Mexico - but to contain the evidence, and I realized he'd known before he came here that it would come to this.

I caught his mouth hungrily, hands slipping inside his open shirt to stroke down his sides, tugging at his belt, tugging open his pants. The shirt would stay on, as it had ever since he'd come back from Mexico, since he'd wept brokenly in my arms as I gently kissed the track marks. A man had to keep some sense of pride, and we were both already so vulnerable in these moments, with everything we rarely said laid bare, in kisses and touch, need and desire and desperation, torn open with the way he looked at me.

I yanked his pants undone, catching his mouth and kissing him almost desperately, freeing his erection from his boxers and wrapping my fingers around it, making him shiver at the touch. He did the same, taking one of the packets from me and tearing it open with his teeth, rolling it on me, pre-lubed, low voice wavering as he spoke. "Tony, please...."

He didn't have to ask, he knew. Knew I'd do anything he wanted me to, no matter what. I stroked the other one onto him, and he stood long enough to let me yank down his pants and shorts, stepping out of them before moving back to my lap, hand wrapped around the base of my cock, rocking onto it. "God - !"

I caught his hips in my hands as I caught his mouth, bucking up into him, swallowing his breathless cry. "Shhhh...." Because even agents loyal to Jack would question if they heard us, heard how Jack usually was when he was with me, how I made him gasp and cry and curse. I knew that I'd pay for making him keep quiet, that my back and shoulders would be bruised and scratched from the strength of his grasp, but I found myself craving it, craving the violence of his desperation, riding me hard, nipping at my lips as I kissed him. I wanted, needed to ache with it, to take that with me, to remind me of him, to remind me that I was still alive.

He too would ache when we were done, from my fingers digging into his hips, from the force of riding me as desperately as he was, drawing breath in shuddering gasps against my mouth. I tried not to think about anything, just to feel him, this last desperate union before I had to face the consequences of everything I'd done, but I couldn't move my mind from the fact that after this I'd lose my sweet Michelle. Worse, I'd lose Jack, lose the one who made my heart beat. I'd never touch him again, never own his mouth and body like I claimed him now. I'd spend the rest of my life cold and starving without him. And somehow in the desperation of it all, I realized I was half sobbing, in tears from the intensity and the desperation and the ache of how badly I needed him, tasting salt on his cheeks and knowing that in this, also, I was not alone.

Too soon, I felt my body reaching for climax, and slipped a hand to stroke him desperately, craving the feel of him hard in my fingers, needing to feel his orgasm. He was keening against my mouth, voice low and soft and shuddering, fingers clenching my shoulders, digging into my skin with the most addicting ache. I gasped his name against his mouth, whispered over and over like a prayer, like it could somehow keep him here with me. Gasping his name as the sensation built, hot and uncontrollable, yet overflowing too quickly, bliss overwhelming my body and mind, the oblivion of orgasm over too soon for both of us.

He dressed silently, as I refastened my clothes, condoms disappearing discretely into a ziplock bag and somewhere in his pocket. I expected him to leave, but instead he slipped back down onto my lap, arms tight around my shoulders, face pressed to my hair, the shuddering gasps of his breath betraying the emotion he fought so hard to hide. I closed my eyes against it, against the anguish I felt, the feeling of loss overwhelming already, even with him still here.

I shouldn't have said it, what had always gone unsaid, but I was sure he must have known by now, and the words left my lips before I could stop them. "Jack... I love you."

He shuddered against me, swallowing hard, and this I knew already too, and I realized I'd known it for a very, very long time. But it was good to finally hear it, especially now, even if it was whispered as if it broke his heart to say it. "I love you too."

I sighed, somehow not realizing I was holding my breath, arms tight around him, pressing my lips to his hair. "You'd better go."

He nodded, very slowly, drawing back to look at me, blue eyes mournful. "I swear I'll get you out of here. Even if I have to go to Palmer."

"Jack...."

"Tony... please," he whispered, and I realized that he needed to do this just as much as I'd needed to save Michelle. Perhaps even more.

"All right," I said softly, and somehow managed to smile for him, small and weak but still real. It seemed to give him the strength he needed to pull away, hiding the envelope with the papers back in his jacket pocket and leaving without looking back.


	4. Months and Years (Sloth)

I suppose I brought it on myself. Stupid to fall in love with a married woman, even a separated one. Separated still meant not sure, no matter how many times as I tried to tell myself otherwise. No matter how many times she came to me. It was far too easy to love Audrey, though. She had this unique mix of strength and vulnerability that awoke in me feelings that I hoped I wouldn't encounter toward another human being again. And she said she loved me. Loved me, but not enough to make it real. Not enough to tell her father. And not enough to end the complicated estrangement with her ex husband, who she said she didn't love.

I, the fool that I was, believed her. Or maybe I was just willing to take the risk, to love her anyway. At the time, I didn't have much else.

I hated Paul Raines, more passionately than I will ever admit. So much that my stomach would curdle any time we even got near the subject. I hated him for hurting her, for being in the way. For getting to her first. And most of all, I hated him for that tiny, dark corner of my heart that said, "if you were good enough, Jack, she would have divorced him long ago."

Then I had to face him, right after almost losing Audrey and her Father. Had to watch that smirky bastard talk to my Audrey, and even then, she wouldn't even tell him. Still kept hiding it, even after I'd saved her life. Women are so damn complicated sometimes.

When we ran into trouble, Tony wasn't far from my mind. Tony was never far from my mind, but after everything that had happened already in the day, after the stress of not knowing what would happen to Audrey, after dealing with Driscol, after watching Audrey and Paul, I needed the strength that he gave me just by being near. So I called him, for the first time in almost a year, and he didn't let me down, though I didn't realize how much it would hurt to see him like he was, a shell of his former self.

I'd heard about Michelle, heard about the drinking, but it still shocked me to see how he was. To think about him sitting around, doing nothing for months, to think of his talent and passion entirely wasted to drink and some shit relationship with a bar whore who had no respect for him. To hear him say that he didn't want to see me, wanted to forget about everything from that time. For a moment, I thought I'd lost him, a thought that left my mind reeling, left me entirely numb, even with Audrey there. Then he declared that he would go with me to stop Powell, and I found I could breathe again.

I tried to concentrate on driving, on what needed to be done, but it was difficult, with him sitting next to me after so long apart. Finally he spoke. "I didn't know you were with someone."

I watched him out of the corner of my eye, watched his hurt, his anger. After so long, Tony was an open book to me. "I didn't know you were with anyone, either."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Jen? She's nothing, you know that."

I snorted, not pulling any punches. "She's a complete shrew, Tony. You deserve better. I hope at least she's good in bed."

He looked at me silently for a long moment, keeping his face calm apart from a little twist of the mouth, and I knew he was about to test me. "Not as good as you."

I felt a shiver of desire at his words, and concentrated on marshaling every muscle into complete control, to avoid any kind of response, but found myself gripping the steering wheel tighter. Sometimes it was almost laughable, that I could withstand interrogation and torture, but not Tony. "Tony... I'm with Audrey."

"Yeah." He let out a long breath. "You've found your Michelle."

I narrowed my eyes slightly. Let him see that it angered me. "That is absolutely not fair of you to say."

He shrugged, non committally. "We're almost there."

We got out of the SUV, like a well-oiled machine, hardly even having to talk, and worked in perfect synchronization to have Powell pinned down in minutes. God, I'd missed him. I'd missed how well we worked together, how we spoke each other's body language and non-verbal queues as easy as breathing, like we'd learned it from birth. I'd missed the security of feeling like someone would have my back, no matter what. And I saw a bit of life come into his eyes as we worked, and knew I couldn't let that spark go out.

When it was, for the moment, done - Powell dead, the sniper gone, and shell shocked pilot in the back of the SUV, we stood in silence by the vehicle for a time - Tony playing lookout, me idly going through Powell's bag a second time, though I didn't think I'd find anything. Finally I turned to look at him, half leaning against the side of the truck. "You know... you never answered my question, back at your place."

He glanced over at me. "Didn't think you'd want me bringing up certain details in front of your girlfriend."

I found myself staring at the roof where the sniper had been, just to have someplace to focus on other than him. "So... why didn't you call, Tony?"

I could see him out of the corner of my eye, but he didn't turn look at me. "You could have contacted me just as easily."

I swallowed, biting my tongue for a moment, until I could speak without displaying my anger, or my hurt. "I did contact you."

For a moment, he didn't respond. Then he took a step closer to me. "I told you I couldn't meet you that day. I legitimately couldn't come, Jack. I wasn't blowing you off."

"But you also said you'd call. You didn't. You just can admit that you didn't want to see me, you know. Just tell me the truth."

"I wanted to see you, but... Jack, you weren't even in LA anymore."

I felt angrier now, and switched tactics, from calm discussion to irrational anger, turning to him. "Come on, Tony! Don't make excuses! You pushed me away just like you did Michelle!"

He flinched visibly, one hand clenching into a fist, pulling back. "You son of a - "

I tensed, waiting for the blow to land. I wanted it to land. At least it would be something, some reaction, some sign of my old Tony. But it didn't, and when I looked back to him, he had backed down, taken a step back, his jaw trembling ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, looking away.

I let out a long, slow breath, letting my head fall back against the van. "Look, did you...." I stopped, and clamped down on what I really wanted to ask. Things were complicated enough already, and even if I asked I wasn't sure if sure it wouldn't be a truthful answer, not now. I gave a little shake of my head and looked back at him. "Never mind. Sorry I even brought this up."

He was silent for a long moment, and brown eyes, sorrowful, searched mine. "Jack... I gotta know something. And maybe this isn't the time, but... with our track record maybe I won't get another chance."

I felt myself half smile with a little sigh of regret. It was true. "What is it, Tony?"

He stepped over Powel's body to stand in front of me, hands lightly resting on the van on either side, looking up at me silently for a long moment, his voice very low. "The day I got arrested... when you came to see me at Division...." His eyes flicked away, but only for a second before turning back to me, serious. At that moment I could read in him what it had done to him - prison, losing Michelle, losing CTU, and my heart ached for him, ached worse that he hadn't come to me for support. He swallowed. "Did you mean what you said?"

His question was hardly above a whisper, but there was no doubt as to what he referred to. I closed my eyes for a moment, clenching my jaw, trying to bite back everything that I wanted to say. "Yeah," I finally managed to whisper, hating myself for the admission. I couldn't afford to be vulnerable, not today, not with so much at stake.

Then I heard him speak. "Jack... me too."

I looked up at him, a thrill of surprise running down my spine as I did. "... yeah?"

Brown eyes watched me quietly, then lowered in admission. "Yeah."

I wanted so badly to kiss him then, to pull him to me, Audrey be damned. It took every inch of willpower to hold back, to remember the chopper pilot, and the fact that CTU would be here any minute. I drew a soft breath, questioning what I was saying, what I was feeling. Was it just because I was so angry, so disillusioned with Audrey? No... I'd always wanted Tony, even in the times when I couldn't admit it, and the times when I didn't have the courage to say it. "Tony... I don't want it to be months or years before I see you again."

He gave a soft sigh, expression betraying nothing more of a reaction to my words, and stepped away from me. "Don't know if there's much we can do about that."

"I'll figure something out," I found myself saying, though I didn't know what. "Just... help me with this for now. Stay with me. I really need your help."

Tony managed a little smile, but I thought I could see some hope in it. "Sure. I will." His fingers touched my arm, just barely a brush, but somehow it seared the sensation into my skin. "I should go question the pilot one more time before they get here."

I nodded. "I'll call CTU. Be careful."

~~~~

As the day went on, it became more and more apparent that my Audrey was not as much my Audrey as she pretended to be. As much as she tried to be. I don't think she did it purposefully, don't think she ever meant to lead me on. But Paul was right... she did have feelings for him, and I could hear it in her voice as well as he could. Take care of Paul, she said. She might as well have shot me in the gut.

I wondered then if I was making the right choice... sticking around in the hopes that she'd make the right decision, or any decision at all. It wasn't about love in the beginning, just two consenting adults with a mutual attraction. It was all I wanted, all I'd ever wanted from a woman since Teri's death. But she got under my skin, wormed her way in with her sweet vulnerability, telling me she loved me.... I didn't feel it, I reflected, not until she said it. I felt affection, friendship, yes, but not love. Not until I was faced with those words. Maybe I didn't love her so much after all.

When we returned, I could tell that what I'd feared was correct. She didn't mean to, but she pulled away from me, to go to his side, and I was alone again. I was stupid, to fall for a married woman. I didn't want to just be the next in line anymore.

I caught Tony's arm as CTU prepped for me to go undercover with Dina Araz, keeping my voice low. "I need a moment with you in private."

He glanced over at me. "We don't have a lot of time, Jack...."

"Just a moment," I repeated calmly, and punched into an empty holding room, tugging him inside with me to the monitoring station, out of sight of surveillance. "I know we don't have time, but I can't leave this undone," I said calmly, then took his face in my hands and leaned in to kiss him.

It had been so long, far too long since the last time I did this, but kissing him still brought the achingly familiar pulse of desire, of need. I'd almost forgotten how good it felt to be pressed close to him, to feel his arms around me, almost forgotten the scent of him. But all of that came flooding back with the warmth of his kisses, all the things that I never expected to have, to feel again. All the things that I wanted to cling to and never let go of, but had to. I forced myself to break from the kiss, fingers slipping into his hair, drawing back just enough to look at him.

"Tony... when this is all over...."

His eyes darted to mine with sudden shock. "Don't start this," he tried to say, but I shook my head.

"No. We've done this long enough. I want to be with you. For real."

Generous lips pressed together tightly, and he couldn't hide the shudder that went through his body, turning away. "Jack, please don't say this... you're all I have left, it's... I can't handle losing you if something goes wrong...."

"You won't."

"But Audrey - "

I caught his face again, pulled him to look back at me. "I'll take care of it. I want you, not her." I searched his eyes, understanding the fear, the vulnerability in the depths of them. A lot had happened today, for him too. "I promise I'll take care of it. Just think about it, ok?"

I watched him fight for control, swallowing hard, then finally nod. "Yeah." Then he reached for me, pulling me close to kiss me again, and I could feel his fingers quiver as they clenched in my jacket, words a harsh whisper against my mouth. "Jack, I am still in love with you."

"I am too," I murmured softly, and allowed myself one more indulgent kiss before I forced myself to pull back, and left my lover, left to return to the field.

~~~~~~~~

 

Seeing Audrey's constant vigil by Paul's bedside only reinforced my decision to end it, but it still hurt. And her reaction when he died... the way she lashed out at me, even though I did everything I could to save him without sacrificing innocent Americans.... I wouldn't have killed him, just to get to her. Not ever. If I'd wanted to, I would have had a lot easier opportunities to do so. For her to think, even in hurt and anger, that I was the kind of person to do such a thing, it was too much for me. Stupid of me to think that she'd still love me after she saw who I really was, what I was capable of doing, the sacrifices I was capable of making to save the country.

Guess I wasn't good enough, in the end. I didn't expect anything less from her than to call it off, though I tried to reason with her. It wouldn't have been right, to leave it undone, to leave things unfinished between us. It hurt, but it was liberating, in the end.

Then just when I thought everything was over and done with, I got the call from Palmer. That the government - the government I had served so faithfully for so many years - would rather me dead than run the risk of me betraying them under torture. After all that I'd done, it was a slap in the face.

I went back to Tony immediately, who was waiting for me inside the locker room as I took the call. "They're going to kill me."

He turned from the locker, hitting the door in his shock, and it crashed loudly against the locker beside it. "What?"

I gave a soft, mirthless laugh. "Too much or a risk to turn me over to the Chinese. Logan thinks I'll talk. Dammit." I let out a sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Look... I need your help. There's only one way out of this, and that's for them to believe I'm dead." Truthfully, I'd already started thinking about it, as soon as I'd heard that they wanted me to take the fall. The Chinese were not known for their fair treatment, but I'd hoped that somehow, someway Palmer would turn it around for me at the last minute. I didn't want it to come to this, I never did. Didn't want to leave Tony just when I'd found him again. But it seemed I had no choice.

Tony gave a slow nod, watching me evenly. "Tell me what you need me to do."

I outlined the plan quickly. It was dangerous, but with a little luck, it would work.

He shut his locker and gave a soft sigh, staring at the dial of the combination as he gave it a spin. "Jack... what if I can't bring you back?"

I stepped closer to him, resting a hand on his arm to draw his gaze to me. "Then you'll know that at least I won't be at the mercy of the Chinese."

"Jack..." his eyes closed for a moment. "Let me come with you," he whispered, and it made my heart ache.

"I can't. It would be too dangerous for us both, you know that. There's no way we could escape detection if we were together, and if you go missing, they won't believe that I'm dead." I raised a hand to cup his face gently, knowing the cameras didn't watch this place for legal issues of privacy, and leaned in closer. "Tony... what I said earlier... I'm really sorry things had to turn out this way."

He looked away, leaning into my hand just a little. "Don't worry about it."

I curled my fingers in his hair. "I know you've been working things out with Michelle... you promise me you'll keep on with that?"

"Jack..."

"I don't want you to be alone again. Please."

He looked back to me, brown eyes miserable. "I don't want it to be months or years before I see you again," he whispered, using my words from earlier.

I closed my eyes with a shudder, then gave in, leaning in to kiss him hungrily, free hand slipping around his waist, pressing close. "I know. I know, Tony. I don't want this either. I'm so sorry... there just isn't any other way."

His forehead pressed to mine, fingers coming up to stroke restlessly over my cheek. "It's not fair...."

"Not a lot of things are." I let my lips brush his, trailing soft kisses from one corner to the other, not wanting the moment to end, but knowing it had to. "Just tell me you'll keep yourself safe... please...."

He moved suddenly, pressing me up against the locker and claiming my mouth, hungry, trembling. I let him, fingers tight in his hair, in the back of his jacket. Drinking it in, trying to memorize the feel of him, take in all his emotion and sadness and need. "I'm sorry," I whispered again, and he broke from me with a soft sigh.

"I still love you, Jack."

I nodded, heart aching, patting his cheek gently. "I always will. I promise."

He gave a soft smile, grim, then leaned in to kiss me one last time, trembling, lingering. "Lets go get you killed."


	5. One Whole Night (Gluttony)

I didn't have to fake tears at Jack's memorial service. For all intensive purposes, we were still burying Jack Bauer, even if he was still alive. He was as good as dead to the world. He was as good as dead to me, and knowing that he was still alive somewhere was hardly a comfort to me when I'd never see him again. There were so many doubts and what ifs in my mind, but I couldn't help but regret the months wasted, alone and wallowing in self pity, when I could have reached out to Jack and had so much more. Perhaps that's what made me lose my hold on the tears. Or perhaps it was his unintentionally broken promise, before he'd had to disappear. That he loved me, that he wanted to be with me, that he'd find a way. The idea of actually being with Jack, whenever I wanted, without hiding anything, was so beautiful to me in those few hours when he came back into my life. I think it was what got me through the rest of that day, at least up until the time where he had to disappear. What a short-lived dream that was.

With Jack gone, I went back to Michelle. Sometimes I hated myself for it, for it felt somehow like I'd finally, truly betrayed Jack, especially in that I'd already talked about it with her, kissed her when I really wanted to just go with him. Or maybe it was just my own feelings that I betrayed, the achingly hopeful joy I'd felt when he said he wanted to be with me. But I did care for her, still. Even after everything she did. And our relationship problems weren't all her fault, really. At least being with Michelle gave me a reason to keep living.

 

It surprised me when, around 6 months later, I received Jack's letter. Not his name or return address, of course. He was too smart, too cautious for that. In fact, I almost dismissed it as a piece of spam, as it appeared to come from one of those pyramid scheme financial service companies. 'Dear Mr. Almeida, Would you like to make your money work for you?' and all that bullshit. But something seemed off, to my mind that was used to looking for such things. And it closed with a handwritten note, handwriting that looked more familiar than it should.

"We always mean what we say. You can trust us, I promise.  
\- Nelson Johnson,  
Everclear Financial"

I traced the form of the J on the signature with a finger, mind sorting back, trying to remember documents Jack had signed. Then I took a look at the content of the letter itself, and things fell into place. It was coded, one Gael had developed just for the three of us when Jack was in Mexico, to fall back on if all other forms of communication broke down. The letter contained an address, a date, a time, and what I assumed was room number. Nothing more, nothing less.

Just like old times. Definitely a message from Jack.

I found myself smiling, refolding the letter carefully and tucking it into my suit jacket pocket. A date a little over a week away. My mind was already formulating an alibi. I would go, there was no doubt about that, and stay as long as I could, as long as he would let me.

~~~~~

The time seemed to drag until the date the letter had specified, but finally I was in a tiny motel in another city, stomach in knots, praying I wasn't here chasing a dream. I knocked lightly on the door number, and heard a low reply, voice so familiar that it made my heart ache. "I don't need room service."

I wet my lips. "I'm actually here on behalf of Everclear Financial... we have this great offer to help Americans like yourself - "

Before I could finish, the door was open, and I was yanked inside, pushed up against the now closed door with Jack's body against me, lips tearing kisses from mine, warm and needy and trembling just a little. I gave a soft groan before I could stop myself, fingers clenching in his hair, in the back of his shirt, passion and desire rising to meet his voracity, until we had to stop just to draw breath.

"God, Jack..."

He gave a soft, breathless chuckle. "Hey Tony. Glad you made it."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world...." I let my fingers stroke through his hair, which was longer and more shaggy than I remembered, setting desire aside for just a moment to look at him. "I thought I'd never see you..." My train of thought derailed mid sentence. "You're a brunette."

Jack laughed again, pulling back and catching my hands to tug me further into the motel room, switching off the TV. "I know blonds are supposed to have more fun, but I think I've about used up my quota. Or at least, Jack's quota."

I pulled him against me, nuzzling his jaw, hands stroking over his chest, starting to undo the buttons of his shirt. "Who are you now?"

He smirked, pushing my jacket off my shoulders and starting at my shirt. "Daniel Buckner. Long distance trucker extraordinaire."

I laughed, wondering a little at his comparatively carefree demeanour, taking his face in his hands. "All right... who are you and what have you done with Jack?"

He smiled, hands reaching up to mirror my pose, leaning in to kiss me warmly, tip of his tongue flicking teasingly against my lips as he did so. "Just happy to see you again, Tony."

I let myself drink in his kisses, slipping one hand down around his waist, stroking his hips and the small of his back hungrily. "Missed you so bad...."

"Show me how much," he murmured, voice low and throaty, which sent a shudder of desire straight to my cock.

"All right," I replied with a smirk, pulling back, making a gun shape with the fingers of one hand. "Strip, or I'll shoot."

His eyebrows raised at my words, and he chuckled, pulling his shirt the rest of the way off and tossing it onto the second queen bed in the room, which already had his jacket and a duffel on it. "Ok, ok, I'll cooperate."

I grinned, watching him appreciatively as he undid his belt and jeans. "You'd better, or I'll go after that hot boyfriend of yours."

He really laughed at that, dropping his jeans and boxers, kicking them off along with his socks. "Oh, I don't want that. Just tell me what you want, I'll do whatever you tell me to."

I wet my lips, letting my eyes move over his body appreciatively. He was still just as fit as he'd been in CTU, though I wasn't too surprised. Even a cushy desk job at the Department of Defence hadn't left him out of shape. I leaned down to grab my coat off the floor, hand still forming a gun, watching him as carefully as if I was actually holding him up. There was a pair of handcuffs in my pocket from my security gear that I'd brought more on a whim than anything else, and I tossed them onto the bed, putting the keys on the bedside table. "Get on the bed and cuff your arms above your head to the headboard."

He eyed the cuffs for a moment, then picked them with a smirk, stretching out and doing as I asked. "Just don't leave me like this for the Chinese to find me."

I stripped my shirt off, crawling over him on the bed to make sure the cuffs were secure, leaning down to kiss him hungrily. "Don't worry, I won't give you over to the enemy. But I can assure you that this will be very, very torturous...."

He gave a soft moan against my mouth, arching up against me, grinding his thigh against my erection through my jeans. "God, you're not serious... it's been so long, Tony...."

I grinned and moved to sit back on my heels, by his feet. "I remember. I also remember that I didn't do a nearly proper job of things then, and I'm going to make up for it now."

"Oh, god..." A soft exasperated moan, but I ignored it, lifting one of his calves to press my mouth to the top of his foot, nuzzling pale skin, trailing slow, open mouthed kisses up to suck at his ankle, flicking my tongue at the sensitive skin just under it.

"Every part of you is mine, every inch belongs to me," I murmured softly, slowly working my way higher, fingers stroking his other calf in slow circles to mirror my kisses. I nibbled lightly at the inside of his knee, lavishing attention slowly over his skin like he was a feast meant only for me, wanting to taste and stroke and tease every part of him.

By the time I reached his inner thigh he was hard, panting softly, squirming under me, tugging a little at the cuffs. "Come on, Tony...."

I grinned despite myself, letting my breath play against his cock, flicking my tongue teasingly against the head of it as he arched up closer to me. Then I pulled back all together, stretching out against his side and catching the cuffed hands in one of mine. "All in good time..." I murmured, leaning into nuzzle his palms, licking up the length of two fingers before sucking them into my mouth, teasing his fingertips with my tongue, dragging my teeth against his skin.

"Fuck - !" His hips bucked up against the air helplessly, as if it was his cock in my mouth and not his fingers, breath coming faster. "Tony, please..."

I smiled, but didn't give in, repeating the attention to each finger, then his wrists, slowly kissing down well muscled arms. I wanted him, wanted more than anything to take him right then and there, but I forced my need aside, needing to savour this, make it last, needing to tattoo the memory of his body onto my hands, my mouth, my mind. His breath came faster, almost whimpering in frustration, pressing his thigh harder against my hips in what I knew was an attempt to make me lose control, but I kept a tight hold on my desire. My hand stroked over his chest as I lowered my lips to his neck, kissing and licking a path down the tendons before sucking at the crook of his neck, lavishing the muscle leading to his shoulder with slow laps of my tongue, breathing in deep of his cologne. "My Jack...."

He gave a little breathless cry of aggravation, turning his body and angling his hips to grind against mine, erection pressed hard against my jeans. "Not going to be your Jack much longer if you don't fucking get on with it," he growled, then drew a sharp breath as I bit down at his neck, smacking his ass playfully.

"Patience is a virtue, Jack...."

"I am not a virtuous man, dammit," he growled, hips rocking sharply against mine, and I groaned despite myself. It had been so very long....

I slipped down to kiss his chest hungrily, sucking and nipping at his nipples as I yanked my jeans undone, wriggling out of them, drawing a soft hiss as the waistband of my boxers pulled tight over the head of my erection. Lube was next, two fingers slipped between his thighs to press inside him, pumping into him slowly, prepping him, and he bucked up against my fingers with a shuddering groan.

"Dammit, Tony, just fuck me!"

My movements now were almost clumsy with eagerness, body screaming for me to do as he said, fumbling the bottle of lube as I poured some out onto my palm and fisted it over my aching cock. I moved to kneel between his thighs, pulling his calves up to rest on my shoulders, then pressing the head of my erection into him slowly and giving him exactly what he'd asked for.

"Ohhh, god, Jack!" He was tight, so damn tight as I slowly rocked deeper, groaning at the hot pleasure it brought, fingers gripping his hips hard to hold him in place. It took every ounce of self control I had left not to pound into that tight ass, reminding myself very sternly that it -had- been a very long time, and though Jack liked it rough, I didn't want him useless for the rest of the night.

He shuddered under me, drawing breath in sharp, helpless gasps, fingers clenched on the bars of the headboard as he tried to rock up into me. "Yes! Finally - !"

"Yes..." I breathed, rocking a little deeper, letting my eyes fall closed for a moment just to savour it, the feel of him under me and around me, shivering, the throaty tones of his voice as he cried out in pleasure. Everything that was so familiar, so dear to me, so long craved for and withheld, and I felt my heart constrict painfully in my chest at the rush of emotion it brought. I'd missed this, more than I'd even realized up until this second, missed the intensity, the utter feeling of completion when I was inside him....

"God, please - harder!"

He didn't have to ask twice for that, my hips bucking deep into him of their own accord at his plea, and I watched him through narrowed eyes, drinking in the sight of him stretched beautiful and helpless under me, tugging helplessly at the cuffs, almost thrashing against the pillows. It made me ache with more than just desire, ache to own him entirely, to make every inch of his body and spirit sing with pleasure, make him belong to me.

I leaned down to him, bending him almost double, to claim those sweet lips, muffling his cries, echoing them with my own. "Uncuff me," he gasped, catching my gaze with a sudden vulnerability. "Please..."

I reached and fumbled for the keys on the bedside table, without slowing the rhythm of our bodies, managing to get one cuff unlocked. Then his arms were tight around me, not caring that one was still cuffed, fingers digging into my back with the most delicious throb of pain. "Oh god, Tony - !"

"Love you," I gasped, not able to hold it back any longer, burying my face in the crook of his neck with a shudder, and his fingers tightened on my skin. "Love you, love you, love you oh god, Jack - !" My voice was keening, hips snapping hard and fast into him, body shuddering against him, heat and sensation and the overwhelming feelings of -right- all building inside me like a storm, wild and uncontrollable, threatening to break free and take me with it. Our bodies bucked together hard and fast, searching, craving, reaching, needing this like oxygen, needing the pleasure and completion and so much overwhelming love. I knew him so well even after so long apart, could feel his body draw tight against mine, feel him ride the edge of ecstasy, and I drew back to kiss him desperately, crying his name against his mouth.

"Love you," He gasped, barely audible, and bucked up hard against me, body tight and shuddering as he came, hot and slick against my stomach. It pulled the storm inside me free to crash around me, both wild and tranquil, knowing bliss and pain and ache and desire and love, all at the same time, overwhelming me, locking out the rest of the world other than Jack.

His fingers didn't release their desperate hold on my back, the hard metal edge of the cuffs digging into my skin, and I felt him shudder under me as he struggled to catch his breath, gasps warm and moist against my hair. "Love you," he breathed again, and I lifted my head to kiss him, slow and deep and deliberate, letting my pulse slow, letting the world come back to me.

"I missed you, Jack," I murmured, and he smiled, breathless, fingers finally relaxing, one hand coming up to stroke gently through my hair.

"So much," he agreed, words a sigh against my lips. "Thank you for coming."

I smiled, easing away from him to let him lay comfortably with a soft sigh of regret as our bodies parted,finding the keys to the cuffs amidst the bedsheets and unlocking the other one from him, setting them aside. Then I curled around him, burying my face in his hair. The emotion that had crested during sex was still turbulent inside me, and it seemed almost trite to try and put it into words, but my lips moved of their own accord, words in a shuddering breath. "Love you so much, Jack."

He tightened his arms around me, fingers stroking my back slowly, comforting, as if sensing how overwhelmed I was by it all. "I know. Always known. Wish things didn't have to be this way." Slipping his fingers into my hair, he guided my mouth to his again, warm and gentle.

I sighed softly against his mouth, letting my forehead rest against his, eyes closed. "I... I really wanted to be with you, you know. That day when you asked me."

"I know," he whispered, kissing me again, trembling just a little under my lips. "I know, Tony. I'm sorry. I really wanted it too. I'm so sorry." He was silent for a long moment, blue eyes watching me when I pulled away, just a little, to look at him. Finally he spoke. "How are you and Michelle?"

I closed my eyes with a little shiver, feeling it all come back, the same gut wrenching guilt and regret I'd felt after he disappeared. "She's... good. I... I'm sorry, Jack."

He pulled back to look at me curiously. "Sorry for what?"

I swallowed, closing my eyes for a moment. "When you found me, when you brought me back to CTU... I had nothing. You gave that back to me, you gave me my life back."

He smiled, giving a soft chuckle under his breath. "I didn't do anything, you know that. I just... wanted to remind you who you really were. Your actions and ability spoke louder than I ever could."

"But you started that. You were the only one who didn't give up on me. Even when they thought I'd died in that explosion, they tell me. You were the only one who never gave up."

He brought his fingers up, fingers stroking slowly through my hair, along my jaw, and leaned in to brush my lips with his gently. "I know you, Tony. Too well to ever give up on you, not for any reason. Not ever."

I swallowed hard, barely managing a reply. "Thank you." I drew a few slow breaths, trying to control it all, pressing closer to him to take strength in the warmth and solidity of his form. "Jack... tell me you'll come back. Tell me I won't loose you again, that I can see you again. Michelle was the only one I could turn to when I thought I'd never see you again. I'm so sorry...."

"I know," He breathed again, arms tightening around me. "It's ok. There's nothing for you to be sorry about. And I will come back. I promise. Whenever I can, whenever it's safe."

I nodded slowly, voice rougher than intended as I spoke. "Do you have to go soon?"

He shook his head, barely perceptible, blue eyes smiling. "I'm staying here all night, if you are."

I let out a soft sigh of relief, holding him to me for a long moment, letting my mind ease, relax, be comforted by him. Then I drew back to give him a smile, pressing him onto his back as I leaned in to claim his lips again. It might just be one night, but it was one whole night with Jack, and I was determined not to waste a single moment. "Good... because I never finished what I was doing to you earlier."

He chuckled, low and throaty and beautiful, which further strengthened my resolution to return to my previous activities, and his hips rocked slowly against mine, sending warm waves of pleasure through me. "I'll forgive you, but as punishment, you're wearing the cuffs when you're done with me."

My smile widened as I leaned down to kiss his chest. "I can live with those consequences."

 

~~~~~~

 

I arrived home around 10 in the morning, later than I'd planned, but not so late that the office would be too worried. I parked the car and went inside to change, thinking about what Jack had said, and found myself smiling. I'd just passed the kitchen when I heard a voice that stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Morning, sweetie."

I took a few steps back to the kitchen doorway to see Michelle, nursing a cup of coffee over the newspaper. "Hey baby. You feeling okay? You're not at work...."

She smiled and nodded, but there was something about the smile that seemed off. It was genuine, but.... "I'm fine," she said. "Just wanted to wait for you to get back." She stood, and I moved into the kitchen to embrace her, kissing her hair, trying to fight down an unexpected wave of guilt.

"Sorry I'm late. We didn't finish up until the AM and then I slept through my alarm."

She said nothing, face nestled into my neck, and took a deep breath. "Mmm. I missed you."

"I missed you, too."

She pulled back slowly, giving me that smile again, hands resting lightly on my shoulders, just looking at me silently for a long moment. I quirked an eyebrow. "You all right?"

Michelle nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I am. So... how's Jack?"

I froze, and felt my stomach plunge down to somewhere around my toes. "What?"

She smiled again, and I couldn't tell if she was angry, but the question was definitely not innocent. "That's who you met up with, right? How is he?"

I stepped back from her, mind reeling, trying to focus on something to steady myself. I ended up pouring myself a cup of coffee. "How did you - why would you think I was with Jack?"

"Well... Chloe called me about a week ago... said he'd asked for our address, she was worried he'd blow his cover if he showed up here." She wet her lips, and though I tried to read her expression, it was calm, carefully closed off. "So? How is he?"

It took me a moment to respond, still trying to figure out what exactly she was asking. "He's... good, he's... safe."

She nodded, and smiled. "Good. Next time you see him, give him my regards." She turned, heading for the doorway.

"Michelle...."

"Yes, Tony?"

I tried to find the right words, to find something, anything to say. "What are you thinking?"

She looked down, quiet for a moment, and when her gaze returned to mine, she looked a little wistful, a little sad. "Just that it would have been nice to hear it from you."

"I...."

She walked back to me, cupping her hands around mine on the coffee cup. "Sweetheart, I'm not... I'm not angry. But I'd like to hear the truth from you. Please."

I closed my eyes with a little shudder. "Why aren't you angry?"

Her voice was still soft and even. "Because I love you, and I want you to be happy. But... please show me that you respect me enough to tell me the truth, Tony."

I took a few soft breaths, forcing the words through my lips before I could think about it for too long. "I'm... sleeping with Jack."

I heard her sigh, a long, even exhalation of breath, almost sounding relieved. "How long has this been going on?"

I kept my eyes closed, face turned away, unable to bring myself to look at her and still be able to answer. "For a while. For... a long time."

I felt her lean in, felt her lips press to my cheek gently. "Thank you, love. We should get to the office."

She pulled away, and I looked back to her, half in shock at the last reaction I would have expected, half frightened that the shit was going to hit the fan at any moment. The calm of denial before the storm. "Michelle... why?"

She turned back to me. "Because it's a work day?"

"No, I mean... why aren't you... angry?"

She gave a little smile, resting a hand on the kitchen counter and looking down at it. The one with her wedding ring on it, I realized. "Tony, I... I've been pretty certain for quite a while. When we were separated, when I was still angry, I always told myself that if I ever saw you again I'd confront you with it. But then when you and I started to work things out, he went into hiding, so I didn't think it mattered. Didn't want to open old wounds while we were healing the ones in our marriage."

I still wasn't quite sure how to react to all of this, and set my coffee cup down on the counter, watching my hand shake a little as I did, as if it belonged to someone else. I'd never breathed a word about Jack to anyone, ever. Hardly even to myself. "How did you know?" I whispered hoarsely.

"Jack used to wear Fahrenheit by Dior...." She started, speaking slowly, remembering. "When we first started dating, you tried it on once in a store and I thought it smelled so nice on you that I bought you some...."

I nodded slowly, recalling very vividly why I'd actually smelled of Fahrenheit that day. "Yeah... I remember."

"It was nice on Jack, too. Then one day at work I noticed he was wearing something different, and when I asked him, he said Kim had bought him some ritzy, designer fragrance back from Boston, by a French designer called Azzaro. Apparently Boston's the only store he has the US. About a week or so later... I smelled it on you. Like I do now." She was silent for a moment, and I heard a soft sound, like a laugh, under her breath. "Once I got the idea in my head, once I started watching for it, there were other things. I'd catch the way he looked at you or the way you looked at him... the way you acted a few nights when you'd had to work late...."

I closed my eyes again, letting myself lean on both hands on the counter, emotions torn between guilt, sorrow and shame. "... I'm sorry."

I heard her sigh, and move toward me, felt her hand on my elbow. "Look... the way I figure, Jack was around long before I was. He's saved you more times than I can count - even when I gave up on you, he never did. When you were vulnerable, I... I gave up, I left you. He pulled you out of that, not me. I wouldn't have you if it wasn't for Jack." Her hand stroked slowly up and down my upper arm, soft and delicate and so unlike Jack's that it made this all the harder. "You always... " she started, and sighed. "You always seemed calmer, happier after you were with him... at least, when I assumed you were. These past couple of days you've just been so... alive. I guess it's because you finally got word from him."

"Yeah," I whispered softly, still not able to bring myself to look at her.

Her voice was softer, gentle, but a little unsure. "You've always been good to me, Tony, and I'm lucky to have you. I had a good cry about it in the beginning... but then you asked me to marry you, so I figured...." She stopped, as if waiting for me to disagree or validate her.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again, heart aching, hating how much I'd wronged her. Saying what I should say, what an honorable man, a good husband, would say, no matter how much it hurt to say it. "I... I won't see him again."

Her arms slipped around my waist, unexpectedly, and I flinched before slowly leaning back into her. "I don't want that," she murmured softly. "Just... just tell me this - tell me our marriage isn't a lie?" She shivered against me, and I turned to pull her to me tightly, pressing my lips to her hair.

"I love you," I whispered, and meant it. Even though my heart still ached for Jack, I cared for my sweet Michelle too much to let her go now that I had her back. So I pushed aside the memory of Jack asking me to be with him, before everything changed and he had to disappear. I could never have that, but what I did have was wonderful, too. "I want to share my life with you. And start a family, just like we've talked about. I've never lied to you about that."

"Thank you," she breathed, shivering in my arms a little. "I believe you."

 

~~~~~~~~~


	6. After (Wrath)

**Tony**

After I woke up at CTU, after I found out Michelle was gone - my sweet Michelle and our baby boy to be, my whole family in one foul swoop - I went faintly mad with grief. She was my wife, she was my responsibility, and I failed to protect her. Failed to protect a son who wasn't even born yet. I cursed what had happened that day, cursed that I'd let her leave the house without me. I could have shielded her somehow, I could have figured out about the bomb, I could have done something, anything to save her.

I'd failed her.

Grief and rage were all encompassing, and shamefully, I hardly thought of Jack in those moments. Even when he called and begged me not to kill Henderson, like he somehow knew what would happen. I could only think of my own pain, and think that somehow, killing the one behind it would end my agony.

I didn't think of Jack until I stood over Henderson with the syringe. I was ready to do it until that moment, until I stood there and looked at him and realized that murder meant jail, and to jail meant... losing Jack, again. I'd made the mistake of using my pain to shut him out before, to push away his support and his love, and I'd regretted it every moment since. Maybe this time could be different. Jack could help me heal, selflessly love me and pull me through this, give me something in life beyond the emptiness in my heart where my little family had been.

When I thought about Jack, I knew for sure that I couldn't kill Henderson.

My rage, and my hesitation, proved my undoing. That was true agony - the syringe plunging into my chest, the chemical burning white hot through my veins, almost eclipsing my entire world. But all I could think about was Jack, on his way, coming here to see this.

I saw him, felt him take me in his arms, heard him calling my name. I tried to speak, to tell him everything in my heart, but it was so hard to speak through the pain, through the blackness that was swimming at the edge of my vision. "Couldn't... do it...." I couldn't kill him, I didn't want to leave you, I didn't want to lose you, and now I'm --

He was panicking, and crying, begging me not to leave him, and god, I never wanted this kind of pain for him. Michelle was dead, Michelle was gone, and I couldn't have done anything about that, couldn't have done anything to bring her back. But in my rage, in my thoughtlessness, I'd thrown away the only thing I'd had left, the most important thing to me, and now I'd lose Jack too. No... Jack would lose me.

She's gone, I wanted to say. She's gone and I was wrong and I'm so sorry and I need you and I never, ever want to leave you. But only the first few words managed to come out, and with my last bit of strength, all I could do was gasp his name, and pray that he'd know, like he'd always known, everything I wanted to say to him, everything that I felt, even without words. That I loved him, that I'd always love him, even in death. And how sorry I was, how very sorry, that I'd brought us to this end.

Just like Michelle, I'd failed him.

 

~~~~~

**Jack**

 

After I let go of Tony's body, I didn't have time to mourn. There was work do be done. So I wiped the tears and set aside my emotion, pushing aside the feeling of utter devastation and loss, like I always did, to save America once again.

I could never decide if it was a relief or a torture to be captured by the Chinese. At home, I could have put off the reality of his death indefinitely. I could have thrown myself into my work, kept myself busy doing something, anything, to keep from thinking, to forget about him. Or maybe I would have turned to vice again, to alcohol like I had when Teri had died, or to the bittersweet siren call of heroin, turned to anything to escape the crushing feeling of loss. Now I had nothing, just darkness and my own thoughts, and pain that couldn't touch the ache inside me. It was almost laughably easy to withstand the days of physical torture. Nothing could touch the agony, the emptiness in my heart from losing Tony. It hurt more than anything I could have imagined, more than being away from Audrey, more than Kim denying me, and perhaps even more than losing Teri. Over and over I wished they'd kill me, just to get away from it all, until it almost became a mantra. Let me escape this, let me join him, let me die.

I hated, I cursed, I wept, I screamed. I blamed god. I even blamed him, for insisting on revenging Michelle, for dying in my arms even as I begged him not to leave me. But in the end I could only blame myself, hate myself. Maybe not for his death, but for everything I'd wanted and now could never have. For the love that I felt and denied for so long. For feeling him die and not being able to do anything about it.

Looking back at my life, at our time together, I only saw lost opportunities. A few bright, hot, passionate moments of love, of Tony, of really living, spread too thin throughout so many years. So many times I could have seen him, and didn't. So many times I could have asked him to come with me, to be with me, and didn't. Why? Was I afraid? All the reasons seemed empty now, empty excuses uttered time after time. Stupid, meaningless excuses that I never should have said. And I could only hate myself more for them, for all the could have beens that now would never be.

Now the other half of my heart had stopped beating.

They said I was cold before. But part of me died that day. It didn't matter what happened to me, what the Chinese did to me in the dark, godforsaken hole they called a jail.

I was already dead.

~~~~~~


	7. Five Years (Betrayal)

Finding out Jack Bauer was in play was the last thing I expected and wanted, especially on the day we were to turn the CIP device over to Dubaku. D-day. But then, Jack always seemed to have a knack of popping up in the thick of things just as the shit was about to hit the fan. And so I had to add "dealing with Jack" to the list of things to worry about that day.

Bill had suggested calling Jack into it weeks before, when rumours had gotten back of what had taken place in Africa, but I wouldn't hear about it. "Jack stays out of this."

"Even if it means the difference between success and failure? I don't have to remind you, of all people, what a valuable asset he would be."

"Jack stays out of this," I growled, punctuating each word exactly, meeting his eyes with a challenge. "We can do this ourselves."

Bill sighed, dropping his eyes, brows furrowed in disapproval. "It might be easier for him to hear it from you, you know. He'll find out sooner or later."

"What?"

"That you're alive." He folded his arms across his chest. "I know you two were close."

My eyes narrowed. "You saw Jack Bauer for one day before the Logan's regime tried to kill him and sent him into hiding. You don't know anything about us."

"I know more than you think, Tony," he said quietly, in that calm, wise, yet humble tone of his. Suddenly I remembered that day, and remembered hating Bill for being close to Michelle. She wouldn't have told him what she'd suspected then, would she? Could she? She'd been so angry with me....

I closed my eyes for a long moment. "Bill... I don't want him to see me like this."

He gave a little nod to acknowledge my words. "Have it your way. Just don't think you can fly under the radar with him forever. You can't afford to let anything distract you from this mission."

I really wasn't surprised, when I found out the FBI had enlisted him to help catch me. They would use anything they could against me. I'd planned for it, though, and acted as quickly as I could to try and throw him off my trail. For a short time, I thought it had worked. Then I heard gunshots outside the boat, and even that wasn't a surprise. Jack was good. Jack had always been good. The best. Just one of the many reasons I loved him so hard.

Hearing Jack's call my name, however, that had been the first shock, my heart stopping as I looked over to find him staring at me down the barrel of a gun. I'd always expected that there would be a gun, whenever I finally ran into Jack, when the unavoidable day came when I couldn't hide from him anymore. What I hadn't expected was the incredible hurt in his expression - pain where I had expected rage, sorrow, like a small puppy that had been kicked by its master, and all of a sudden my heart was beating again for the first time in five years, racing in my ears, and I could feel so intensely, feel things I wasn't prepared to feel again. I'd prepared myself for rage, I would have been able to handle rage. But not sorrow, not to see Jack crushed in front of me.

I ran. It was the only thing I could do, to run before I broke, before my heart took control and I blew everything just because of how much I needed him, how much I missed him. Because of how much I wanted to pull him to me and never let go again. As soon as I started running, he was chasing, and I could hide my emotions under the rush of adrenaline, steel my determination to throw him off and get away, to fight him, and his blows were almost satisfyingly painful in their passion after so long with nothing.

I gave in finally, I had to. Jack wouldn't stop fighting until he had me where he needed me, I knew that. He slammed me up against a crate, hands at my throat, and though part of me could hear his voice, his words, yelling, the rest of me turned off. I clung to the anger, the hatred, to all the shit Emmerson had pumped me full of - to hate the government for taking everything dear to me - because if I didn't cling to that, then I wouldn't be able to stop myself from thinking about how close he was to me, from thinking about the scent of him that surrounded me, his body faintly trembling in rage against mine, his hands on my skin.

"What the hell happened to you?"

I said nothing, swallowing hard, shuddering, and could feel my cheek twitch with the effort of holding it all back, holding myself back when all I wanted was him. I said nothing, because I couldn't hope to speak and keep control of myself, and I knew that as soon as I spoke it would all be over. He'd know in an instant, he could read me far too well. So I let him believe the anger, let him believe that I was everything he feared. It was safer, that way.

By the time I saw him again in the FBI interrogation room, I felt stronger, I had a plan of action. As much as I'd wanted to leave him out of this whole mess, as much as I'd vowed never to endanger Jack again, I'd realized that it was no longer an option. Jack would always be involved in these things, somehow. And if he was to be involved, I wanted to be at his side. So I devoted every bit of attention to schooling my features, to holding perfectly still. To preparing myself to handle the storm that was Jack Bauer.

"I watched you die in my arms," he said simply, and yet it said everything, all the hurt that I'd seen in his eyes, everything that we'd lost. Trust Jack not to pull any punches. The others wouldn't know, the various FBI personnel that were no doubt watching from behind the 2-way mirror, but I knew. Knew that he'd cried, begged me not to leave him with the simple act of calling my name. Now he was testing me, testing what I'd felt for him then, trying to find some sign of it, some weakness to exploit. But I'd been prepared for this, and I steeled myself, tuning out his words, mind going over and over what I needed to say to him.

He was frightened for me, and that would make this easier for me. I could tell by the slight tremor in that beautiful voice, unnoticeable to anyone but me, when he talked about torture, when he talked about the consequences of my actions, talked about the death penalty. Then he jumped straight to an offer of immunity, very unlike Jack, which a very tiny part of me, the part that was tired of guns and terrorists, wanted very much to take, to grab it and Jack and run far away where no-one could ever find us. But there was so much more at stake here, and I couldn't abandon my mission. I had things to set right. So I needed to make Jack believe that I was everything that the FBI thought I was, just for a little while longer.

He claimed he didn't believe me, and there was that look again, that crushed, hopeless look to his eyes, and I promised myself that no matter what happened, I'd somehow make things right with him when this was all over. For now I had to stay the course.

"Come on, Jack. Don't look so surprised. Money's the only reason I have left for doing anything. The government took care of that."

"The government didn't kill Michelle."

Michelle, it always came back to Michelle with him. But I didn't blame the government for Michelle, not really. Not anymore. Their sin was taking Jack from me, time and time again.

I threw everything I had at him, pushed every button I knew, threw it all in his face - Teri, Kim, Palmer, Audrey - even me, using his own hurt and confusion against him. I needed to make him angry, uncontrollably angry, which was never a sensible thing to do to Jack Bauer, but I'd never been particularly sensible when it came to Jack. It was the only way I could think of to both maintain my cover and get him close enough to give him the information he needed. And god, he was angry. But underneath it, I could still see the same betrayal, the same raw pain, and it almost killed me again to see it, even with his hands at my throat, crushing my windpipe. I hated myself more than ever in that moment, that I had to hurt my Jack. That I had to say what I did, that I had to let him believe I was dead for so long.

For a moment, I thought it wouldn't work, when the FBI intervened moments after I'd whispered the phone code. I thought everything I'd worked for was lost. But my information must have gotten through, and somehow he set aside his rage and trusted me enough to call Buchanan, enough to break me out of the FBI, which would have been entirely impossible without him. Maybe he just needed something, anything to believe that I wasn't what they said, that I hadn't gone dirty.

As soon as I tumbled into the van after Jack his mouth was on me, gasping, tearing at mine, hands fisted in my shirt, and I knew that the tension I'd felt the moment I'd seen him, the desire that had rushed through me when he'd pinned me up against that wall in the interrogation room, had definitely not been one sided. He was warm and trembling just a little against me from the rush of our escape, and I tangled my fingers tight in his hair, yielding to the force of his kisses, stealing from him what I'd wanted so badly since the moment I heard his voice, laid eyes on him on the boat.

"You all right?" He breathed, pulling back finally, blue eyes shadowed, still trying to catch his breath.

I nodded, body still aching from the tumble, not even beginning to imagine how much he hurt. "Thanks, Jack." There was so much I wanted to say to him about everything, on the drive, then back at our sad little excuse for a CTU, and it broke my heart to have to come clean to him there, to tell him I'd gone dirty, if even for a short while. I said it was because I had nothing, and with all my being I prayed for him to understand. Michelle was dead. Jack was as good as, deserted by the government he served to a fate possibly worth than death at the hands of the Chinese. Then when they'd brought him back, they hadn't even done it to rescue him, to do right by the man that had saved their asses countless times. No, it was just to trade my Jack to yet another fucking terrorist. So of course I'd been angry. So very, very angry. I had truly had nothing left in the world.

Maybe he'd heard what I'd said without words, like he always had, when we were together so long ago. Or maybe he just didn't have anywhere else to go after breaking me out, but whatever the reason, he agreed to go in with me, back undercover, to the most dangerous and impossible mission yet. And then I just had to pray to god that I wouldn't end up getting him killed.

~~~~~

When I found out, later that night, that he'd been infected, my whole world changed. Seeing Jack, meeting Jack again had turned everything around for me. Given me hope again, made me believe that there could be something in life other than pain. But finding out that he was dying took that all away. What option did I have but to go back to my original plan? What reason did I have left but vengeance?

Vengence on the people who had killed him, who'd taken everything from me. My last effort to throw open the conspiracy that was responsible for it all. Casualties didn't matter, no matter how many people died. I had to get to them, no matter what needed to be sacrificed. They had to go down.

 

When I saw Jack again, after Larry Moss died, it brought the most unbearable pain. Jack, my Jack, reduced to this, reduced to trembling hands and weak limbs and lapses of memory. It wasn't even the idea of Jack dying that hurt so much - dying in battle was something I'd half expected for him, because it was something we all had to come to terms with, doing what we did. Jack deserved a warrior's death, not this. Not weak and trembling and in pain. Not this, not for my Jack.

I closed my eyes, I let it consume me. The sorrow, the despair, the agony. Just for one indulgent moment, because that was all I could afford. Then I channelled it, just like David had taught me. Turned it to rage, let it give me power when I had none, let it move my limbs when all I wanted to do was curl up and die.

I didn't say goodbye to him then, though in hindsight, perhaps I should have taken the chance for one last kiss before he found out the truth. I couldn't bare it. Didn't try to find a quiet moment to tell him what he meant to me, because it would be easier on him if he could hate me. I stayed the course, betrayed him, took his medicine from him, let him collapse onto the ground. And then I walked away, without waiting to see if he lived or died. It didn't matter. Jack Bauer was already dead, along with the remains of my humanity.

When he caught me again, it was like he'd been at the beginning of the day, but worse. Before he had hope, but now he was convinced - the Tony he'd known and loved was no longer. I couldn't deny it... the last spark of hope in me had gone out, the last piece of the old me had died with the news that he was dying.

He told the agents guarding me to walk away, and faced me down, just the two of us. His blows weren't as strong as they normally would be, but it still hurt, to be the target of his rage. The pain was bright and hot, and unlike when he'd hit me earlier, these just added to my agony. I tried to add that to my rage, to hatred toward this situation, toward the corrupt people that had pitted us against each other. But then he spoke.

"Why did you betray me? Why?" His words, the pain in his eyes, hearing him say that he had nothing left, that he'd kill me in cold blood, it broke me.

"You think I have anything left to lose, Jack?" I gasped, feeling my pain come out as a bitter laugh, letting him see it in my eyes. Let him make of it what he would. I wouldn't change my mind. At least if he killed me, I wouldn't have to watch him die. "Do it."

He wouldn't, and I knew it. Couldn't shoot me point blank, couldn't ever kill me, his agony at the mere thought of it written on his face clear as day. Because he knew I didn't deserve a hollow, meaningless death any more than he did. And that's when I began to see it, to see one last chance to right this, one last chance to see it through and go out of this world with meaning, Jack and I. I'd already planned to use Kim as leverage, have Jack break me out once again, but I hadn't thought about taking him with me. Not until now. Use Jack to get to Alan Wilson. Use Jack to kill the man who had sentenced him to death. Make his death, his sacrifice mean something.

I took him with me, I let them experiment on him. And he tried to kill himself in a blaze of glory, typical Jack style. My beautiful Jack.

So I came clean and told him everything - almost - as I wired the explosives around his chest. I owed him that much, even if he'd never understand. Even then, he still thought it was about Michelle. It was never about Michelle. It was always about Jack.

Suddenly, I couldn't stand it anymore. "I don't want it to end in a hospital surrounded by tubes and wires," I murmured, heart aching. "I won't let you die like that." And then I pressed my lips to his cheek, and felt him shiver under my mouth.

He looked at me as I pulled back, stricken, blue eyes wide, and I knew he understood this. "Don't do this, Tony," he whispered. "Let me make that choice."

"I'm sorry, Jack," I replied, voice raw and shaking despite my efforts at self control. "He killed you. He took you from me five years ago, and now he's killed you, just when I got you back. I won't let him live."

"Tony...."

I pressed the piece of duct tape over his mouth, smoothing it firmly into place, then let my forehead rest against his, let my fingers run through his hair, and heard him sigh, felt his breath on my face. I tightened my grip in his hair and pressed my lips to his through the tape, hard, feeling him shudder against me, and I knew it was only half rage. One last kiss, one last memory of him. "I wish it could end any other way," I whispered, then pulled back, stood, and put myself back together.

This was the only end for me now. One last desperate reach for glory, after everything I'd shared with him, a blaze to rival the passion we'd shared, Jack and I.

I'm sorry, Jack. But I'll join you soon. Just at soon as it's over for good.

~~~~~


End file.
